Cantabile
by Lunamaria
Summary: Things change, and the baron is but a distant memory.


_Cantabile_.

Italy … Italy had changed the awkward, defensive boy she had once known in her childhood. The change, she supposed, was good; no, Shizuku corrected, _it_ was good; wonderful. Italy had changed the boy she loved into a man. No longer did he trounce about with his long limbs, growing height, and changing body, as if he were alone in the world and desired to keep it that way. He had now fully grown, possessing the mold of a great man, with knowing eyes and a gentle smile. The first thing she had spoken to him after years apart, unsurely, were simply, "You've changed, Seiji." And, indeed he did. She heard splendid acclamations of his musical work abroad, savoring every bit of news she could receive outside her weekly letters to Seiji. His reply, simply to her was:

"You've changed too, Shizuku." And, indeed she had. When he smiled at her, it looked as though he had admired her change. Shizuku, after years of getting her feet wet in bits of journalism and other writing fortes, mostly to keep her parents happy, finally settled down into her dream of writing solely for the sake. Over the course of Seiji's absence, three of her books, tightly knit with fantasy, adventure, and romance, were published for the world to read. She also had grown out of her adolescent appearance; no longer did she showcase hair that tickled the back of her ears or an awkward figure that did not know which way to curve. As Seiji surveyed her, he smiled approvingly; like he, she had grown.

If Italy had changed him, then Shizuku wondered what had changed her. She thought it was waiting for him all the years, nearly nine, that had caused a change in her. However, that change, thought Shizuku, was not enough for her love to remember a speck of stardust she had wished on. Cremona, that place he had dreamed of more than Shizuku, had changed him – more than she could have imagined. After stepping into her modestly sized apartment, grasping her in a long, warm hug, warm liquid forming in her ducts, streaming down her cheeks, she heard a distinctly Italian voice; moreover, it was distinctly female.

"Seiji!" She called, stepping just behind the two, locked in an embrace. Soft almond, ruby tinted ringlets spilled playfully down onto the woman's, sheltering her thin shoulders. Chocolate, beautiful orbs greeted Shizuku happily, and a rosy smile, curled over her European features. The Italian woman before them was absolutely stunning. However, what was more stunning to the novelist was not so much the firm hug he greeted the woman with, or the way her hands daintily, yet strongly grasped his back; no, it was the tiny silver band that encircled the woman's finger. _Funny_, thought Shizuku, _in all our letters, he never mentioned her_.

After two hours of long, _friendly_ conversation, the only phrase she could clearly understand was: "This is my fiancé." She hadn't the smallest idea why Seiji thought she should be happy for him, when, all along, he was supposed to be hers, not the strong arms protecting a beautiful Italian woman. Still, Shizuku smiled at the woman all night long, doing her best to seem interested in her and Seiji's wonderful adventures in Italy.

Seiji had changed. Italy… no. Italy had not changed her handsome love. Italy had not shaped and modeled him so wonderfully that, despite her desperate efforts, he was far, far beyond her reach. This woman, so wonderful and kind, so _not Shizuku_ had done it. She had changed him. As the pair left late in the night, headed towards the old shop where Seiji once called home, Shizuku happily greeted the couple off.

If that woman had changed him, then Shizuku could say nothing to protest the man who had grown without her. Closing the door softly behind her, Shizuku placed her head against the cold surface of the opening, whispering to her heart, and to only her heart:

"I gave up the Baron for you."

- -- - -

You know, I just felt like doing at drabble for this series.  
It's common knowledge that this scenario is unlikely to happen  
to the couple, but, I just thought, I haven't written a bit of  
angst-esque for quite some time, and this idea just kind of popped  
into my mind. So, I hope you enjoy. I own nothing.

disclaimer; standard disclaimer applies.

¤ _composed by __lunamaria_.


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